


Shades Of The Past

by the10amongstthese3s



Series: The Gremlin Gets a Sword [5]
Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: Anne is regaining her confidence, Comfort/Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fencing, Fluffy Ending, Jane is a protective mama bear, PTSD, Swordfighting, Swords, mentions of past beheading
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:00:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22297459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the10amongstthese3s/pseuds/the10amongstthese3s
Summary: Just as Anne Boleyn begins to regain her confidence in her sword-fighting skills, the PTSD becomes too much for Jane Seymour to bare. Will she crumble under the stress?
Series: The Gremlin Gets a Sword [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1555999
Comments: 7
Kudos: 106





	Shades Of The Past

Sword fighting isn’t for everyone; that much is true.

Whether it be a brutal medieval battle of strength, or simple fencing practise, the act made Jane Seymour uncomfortable. Still though, the woman insisted on attending Anne’s classes once they began.

Honestly, the Boleyn girl was extremely fortunate to be under the tutelage of such a reputable coach. Cleves had helped Jane to get in contact with the man, siting that a former Olympic athlete and coach was as good as any to train their young fighter. 

Anne Boleyn deserved the best, after all.

Yet, somehow, that didn’t help to settle Jane’s fears. She couldn’t show it though. Anne needed to regain her confidence, if Jane let her discomfort show, it would do nothing but scare the girl. Instead, the woman opted to encourage the girl, doing her best to reignite Anne’s passion for the sport.

The first session went slow. It was mostly introductions and assessing Anne and Kit’s knowledge. The instructor had Anne demonstrate a few stances and defences but, other than that, the girl barely even got to pick up her sword.

Truthfully, Anne was okay with that. Starting slow is good sometimes, even for someone as chaotic as Anne Boleyn.

It was the day before the second session when Katherine Howard was suddenly struck by sickness. After the night of vomiting and exhausted crying, there was no way the teen could attend their class. Still, though, she encouraged Anne to go ahead. Just because she had to miss the class, didn’t mean Anne should too.

It took a lot of convincing but, eventually, Anne agreed to leave her baby cousin. Thankfully, once they arrived, her excitement overwhelmed any former feeling of doubt.

She was ready.

Of course, the girl couldn’t start without sending a million pictures to Kit. Selfies in the green uniform Jane had bought her, a photo of her and Jane together, countless images of all the spare fencing swords, and the students that were currently training.

Texting her cousin did even more to excite Anne and, soon enough, the girl was filled with an exhilarating sense of anticipation. She’d missed holding a sword. No, she’d missed the feeling of power that comes with it; the thrill that comes with defeating your opponent. Soon enough, she knew, she’d be experiencing that joy once again.

Once again, the session seemed rather slow for the overexcitable girl. Jane was slightly shocked though at how much she seemed to calm down and focus as the instructor talked her through all she needed to know.

Advance, attack, counter-attack, defense, guard; the terms all blurred into a flurry of sounds, assaulting Jane’s ears as she watched the two with distinct caution. She wanted to relax. She wanted to be able to enjoy the look of pure delight on Anne’s face. The sound of clashing blades filled Jane with a sense of dread, though. 

Still, Jane did her best to feign a smile, making sure to cheer Anne on when it seemed appropriate.

Alongside the cheers though, came commands. “Be careful!” “Watch your back!” “Keep your hand steady!” Jane sounded like some sort of pageant mum and it was beginning to irritate Anne.

It was after one particularly distracting shout that Anne lost her footing, tumbling backward against the mat. As the instructor went to demonstrate how easily she could be defeated though, he made the mistake of grazing the sword against her neck, sending Jane into a frenzy.

Before anyone could register what was happening, Jane charged at the man, pinning him down with the ferocity a mother bear, attacking the hunter than injured her cub. Anne just watched on in horror as Jane held the shocked man in place, glaring at him.

“You harm a hair on her head and I will gut you like a fish, I swear it!” Jane growled. 

No. That wasn’t Jane. Not really. 

Something inside of the woman burst out at that moment. A sense of courage she’d hidden deep down for her own protection long ago. The Jane Seymour they knew would never speak like that. She would never attack a grown man. 

Submissive. Gentle. Kind. 

Jane may have been all of those things but now, more than anything, Jane was protective. Defensive. Enraged.

It took two other instructors to pull the woman off of the stunned coach. Jane wasn’t violent - she never even threw a punch - at that moment though, nobody could be sure of what she was capable of.

The drive home after that was quiet. Silent. Anne stared out of the window from the passenger seat whilst Jane kept her eyes focused on the road, still in shock from her own actions.

“I… I’m sorry.”

Immediately, Anne felt fury rage inside of her. Sorry? Jane had ruined her chances with the coach. The one man actually molding her skills and forming her into something worthwhile. How could she return to the class now? God knows she wouldn’t be welcome back after that outburst from the woman.

Anne made that known too, screaming at the woman, arguing back and forth as they drove.

“YOU FUCKED EVERYTHING UP, JANE!”

“I WAS JUST TRYING TO PROTECT YOU!”

Oh, that was it. Anne Boleyn didn’t need protecting. No, she was a strong, independent woman. Henry wasn’t here anymore, so why should she feel scared? Why should she hide away like some abused child? She wasn’t Kit. Sure she had PTSD, but she was an adult. She was coping. 

She didn’t need protecting!

“Why?” Anne hissed, her eyes filled with tears, blurring her vision. “Why do you always have to protect me? You’re not my mum, Jane. I’m not in danger! Why can’t you just fucking trust me for once? WHAT ARE YOU SO AFRAID OF?”

What came next, neither of them were expecting. The confession sent both girls into shock at the obvious, yet so easily forgotten fact.

“I HAD FRONT ROW TICKETS TO YOUR EXECUTION, ANNE!” 

As soon as she blurted that sentence out, Jane burst into tears, bringing the car to a halt. She couldn’t stop now; she had to explain. 

“Every time I see those swords, I see you… I see your body. You’re not the only one who suffers, Anne. You’re not the only one who remembers,” Jane admitted, turning to the girl with a desperate expression. “I want you to be happy I just… I can’t help thinking about the past. Having those blades swinging at you is a constant reminder of what I did. What I… what I caused.”

Of course.

Jane still blamed herself.

Without a word, Anne pulled Jane into a hug, holding her close. The distressed woman deserved to be the one being cared for, for once. So, there they sat, Anne holding Jane tight for what felt like an eternity until her tears finally ceased, whispering words of comfort every so often, doing her best to reassure the woman that she did nothing wrong.

Once she was calm, Jane just sat up and continued to drive, silence once again falling upon the two. 

At home, Jane excused herself to her room whilst Kit pestered Anne, asking her all about the session. Instead of going into detail, Anne told the girl about a few of the fun parts of the lesson before escaping. She appreciated her cousin’s enthusiasm but, right now, she had something more important to tend to.

Giving a knock, Anne didn’t even wait for a reply before entering Jane’s bedroom with a cup of tea in either hand and a packet of biscuits tucked under her arm. Jane didn’t say anything as she girl took a seat beside her on the bed and handed her a mug. What was there to say?

“I’m sorry.”

To Jane’s surprise, that phrase came from Anne’s mouth, not her own. 

“I should have thought. If the swords could trigger my PTSD, I should have taken your feelings into consideration too. I wasn’t the only one there that day,” Anne sighed, wrapping an arm around Jane’s back. “If you want me to quit, I will. No question. You deserve to be comfortable, Jane. You do so much for us all, god knows I shouldn’t repay you like this.”

Immediately, something clicked within Jane. No matter how much she hated the swords, she could never let Anne give up something that gave her so much joy.

So they talked.

Anne promised to be careful and only train with wooden swords on the property. Jane agreed to stay away from the training sessions. Well, first she swore she’d call the instructor to apologise and beg for him to still train the girls. Anne made a point of reassuring the woman that she didn’t cause her death, time and time again, and Jane agreed to stop being so harsh on herself about it. Somewhere along the line, the women ended up lying beside each other in bed, the TV playing quietly in the background as they chatted.

Everything felt calm once again in that bed. Almost as if the morning’s disaster hadn’t occurred.

For the rest of the evening, the two stayed curled up in bed together, talking and watching whatever rubbish was playing on Channel 4. Jane always did like Come Dine With me.

That bed was filled with spilled secrets, promises, and a sense of love and security that only family could provide. 

Stroking the snoring girl’s hair, Jane couldn’t help but give a small smile. They were safe here. Anne was smart. The girl wasn’t going to let herself get hurt this time. 

“I trust you, Annie.”

This time would be different.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! 🗡🦆 Sorry for torturing you all with angst again. I had a couple of people ask me about how I think Jane deals with the guilt she was rumored to feel about Anne's beheading, and this series seemed as good a place as any to touch on it! 😝
> 
> I'll probably do one more little fic to close off this series after this, but feel free to drop me a message/ask/anon on Tumblr (@the10amongstthese3s) if you have any requests/suggestions for future fics or additions to this series!


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